


I'll Follow You Into Heaven or Hell

by backinthebox



Series: Holy Water Cannot Help You Now [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25744087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backinthebox/pseuds/backinthebox
Summary: It was easier to deal with the fact that Nyssa was out in the world when their lives weren't closely entwined, and the fact that Nyssa was the one taking care of Laurel was a constant reminder.One problem Sara had was the knowledge that Nyssa was often caught up in situations that could never be classified as "normal," and if Laurel was with her, that meant Laurel would be caught up in it, and unlike Sara, Laurel hadn't spent years in the League.(Protected by her status as the Heir's Beloved, but that's beside the point.)
Relationships: Laurel Lance & Sara Lance, Laurel Lance & Thea Queen, Nyssa al Ghul & Laurel Lance, Nyssa al Ghul/Sara Lance
Series: Holy Water Cannot Help You Now [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1041701
Comments: 23
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Dreams in Which I’m Dying](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4397354) by [nerdgirlwalking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking). 



> Important Notes/Disclaimers: As previously stated, I have not watched or followed Arrow in ages, therefore there are bound to be tons of discrepancies here - if you're a stickler for details, I'm sorry, please stop reading now. I also no longer watch Legends of Tomorrow, so I have no idea what's happening there and who are on the crew at any given moment in time.
> 
> Yes, Legends will be referenced. Yes, even a certain relationship. Kind of hard to ignore. If you are particularly fond of that relationship, please stop reading. I try to be respectful, it isn't tagged for a reason, but it will be mentioned and addressed.
> 
> Yes, _that_ archive warning exists for a reason. If the whole reason for this series even exists proves, it's there, but I fully intend to fix it.
> 
> If all these disclaimers (warnings) are acceptable to you, then, dear readers, read on. Please enjoy.

Nyssa was missing.

Laurel was missing.

Those were the two primary thoughts that ran through Sara's mind, and with those thoughts came a sense of dread Sara couldn't shake off; thoughts that drove Sara to distraction, to the point where she knew she had to get answers or she would kill someone. Or get someone killed.

After Laurel had died, Sara had kept tabs on Nyssa through her dad or through Felicity, confident in her knowledge that if Nyssa were in Star City, she would visit Sara's father, or if she were out in the world, Felicity would be keeping track of her whereabouts.

It wasn't information she actively solicited, just things the people she loved felt compelled to share.

And then Laurel had come back.

She and Laurel hadn't been very good at keeping in touch, not after the first few weeks, even though Sara was infinitely glad Laurel was alive, having been brought back with the use of a Lazarus Pit, but Laurel was under Nyssa's care, and if there was anyone in the world Sara could trust with Laurel, it was the former Heir to the Demon.

The fact that Laurel was with Nyssa was both a comfort and a point of confusion for Sara, though. It was easier to deal with the fact that Nyssa was out in the world when their lives weren't closely entwined, and the fact that Nyssa was the one taking care of Laurel was a constant reminder.

One problem Sara had was the knowledge that Nyssa was often caught up in situations that could never be classified as "normal," and if Laurel was with her, that meant Laurel would be caught up in it, and unlike Sara, Laurel hadn't spent years in the League.

(Protected by her status as the Heir's Beloved, but that's beside the point.)

So Sara was a little worried, with the whole situation of Laurel being under Nyssa's wing. She had known Nyssa had intended to put Laurel through some kind of training, mostly as a means of figuring out what changes her resurrection had wrought, but Sara had also known, without explicitly being told, that Laurel would be training under people who remained loyal to Nyssa, even if the League of Assassins had officially been disbanded.

Sara didn't know how she felt about that.

But training under the former League of Assassins meant secrecy, especially considering they were supposed to have scattered to the winds on the instruction of the Demon's Head, and having been there, Sara understood why Laurel's check-ins came few and far in between, and sometimes when they did catch each other, Laurel had been too tired, both physically and emotionally, to really hold up her end of the conversation. It didn't help that Sara itched to ask about one thing, but was reticent to do so and Laurel seemed to have opted not to push.

But Laurel, like their father and like their friend, was too good and kind to just leave Sara hanging, and would drop the occasional comment about Nyssa, and that had been enough.

And then the Thanatos Guild: A breakaway group from the former League of Assassins, loyal to Malcolm Merlyn, and sought to crown Thea Queen as his Heir.

The messages came in sporadically after that update, the last one Sara could recall being about Laurel joining Nyssa and Thea on their quest to destroy Lazarus Pits.

And then their father died. Sara had come home to Starling, and instead of finding her sister at their father's bedside, she had come face to face with Laurel's Earth-2 counterpart.

She could understand the reasoning behind Laurel staying away – nobody could tell for certain where Earth-2 Laurel's loyalties lie, and Oliver and his team weren't exactly doing so well with the threat they had been facing.

She hadn't liked it, nor did she feel any kind of generosity over the fact that neither Nyssa, Thea or even Roy showed up either. Especially given the fact that Laurel had insisted that nobody should tell their father she had been brought back to life with a Lazarus Pit, at the time uncertain of the effects of the resurrection, which meant their father was going to die thinking Laurel was dead.

The grief had been immense. Sara had wanted to hunt down Laurel and Nyssa and give them a piece of her mind, but Ollie had needed her help and that had been a sufficient enough distraction from hunting down her sister and ex.

That was months ago. Sara had assumed no news meant good news – she had her own missions and adventures that kept her busy and preoccupied – and Laurel was travelling with Nyssa, Speedy, Arsenal and possibly a small contingent of Nyssa's assassins. The odds of keeping Laurel alive were greatly in their favour, given that team.

Except.

Oliver and his team haven't heard from Thea or Roy in ages. They had initially thought that had been due to their mission, assumed they were going to places where even satellite service would be difficult to manage; or they were on the run and needed to be untraceable from any kind of cell signal. It was only after the dust settled from Quentin's death and Oliver's arrest and trial that they realized just how long it had been since they had received word.

Deeply unsettled, Sara had returned to Star City on a mission. Tracing their footsteps as much as she could, considering Gideon offered no information and the League did not always have a need for electronic communication considering how easily it could be tracked. Eventually she found one of Nyssa's lieutenants who had been injured in one of their missions, who could not provide details as to their subsequent missions, of where Nyssa was, or what had happened to Sara's sister or any of Nyssa's other wards, but offered information nonetheless.

The Thanatos Guild was defeated.

Talia claimed to be Ra's al Ghul.

Sara hasn't been part of the League in years, but she knew how dangerous it was for anyone to even merely claim to be Demon's Head, even for a League that claimed to have been disbanded. Given how Talia had once been stripped of the title of Heir, a title later given to her younger half sister, Sara had no doubt that it was especially dangerous for the older daughter of the former Ra's al Ghul to claim as much. There would be old and former lieutenants ready to stage a coup, dissenters loyal to the true Heir and merely absent Demon's Head, or there could be fanatics like the Thanatos Guild that believed in Malcolm Merlyn.

But it was believed Talia was the last person who had seen Nyssa and Laurel alive, which meant she was then possibly the only person who could provide Sara with answers.

And Sara wanted answers. Talia had those answers.

She courted war with the League, in her desire to find Talia.

Talia, whom she had once instructed. Talia, who had resented Nyssa so much she had formed her own breakaway version of the League, intent on usurping her younger sister if and when Nyssa ascended to becoming Head of the Demon.

Talia, who had resurrected Sara's sister to pay back a life debt to her own sister, who had once spared her life.

Talia, who was trying to rebuild the League of Assassins and claiming to be the new Ra's al Ghul. With Merlyn dead, Oliver having abdicated, and Nyssa missing, there seemed to be confusion and suspicion on the validity of Talia's claim, and that was the only reason people were willing to talk to Sara, as if hoping she would be able to provide them with answers.

She traced Talia's footsteps.

Sara had been in Central City, on a lead that Talia had been there recently, when she got some answers from an unlikely source.

Caitlin Snow admitted they had lost contact with Laurel, Roy, and Thea a few months back, having sent them to a different Earth, in their own form of WITSEC considering all the forces they were hiding from. The communicator they had sent with them still received a signal, or at least they assumed it was, but all their messages were being, so to speak, being left on _Read_.

They couldn't provide her with an exact location, but they brought her to a different Earth, at least one that looked a lot like their own, and since Central City had its own problems, Sara gave them leave to let her handle this mission to find her sister on her own.

It wasn't hard.

There are news reports about the Black Canary, and Sara took the risk on the hunch that Laurel hadn't been able to keep herself from pursuing justice, even in this new world she was living in.

It's the pair of red-clad archers that she actually followed to a hideout, and she utilized her League training to grant herself entry, but before she could make her presence known to Thea or Roy, neither of whom she could see and assumed were changing their clothes, her attention was drawn to the a lone figure where the training mats were.

Laurel lost the staff she had been working with when she was tackled to the ground by an assailant Sara hadn't seen coming, and in alarm, Sara grabbed the nearest weapon, aiming at the person who had taken down Laurel, but she missed, the arrow hitting the back wall, and the assailant must have sensed it, freezing on top of Laurel and being shoved off by the woman she had taken down.

Sara hesitated, suddenly aware she might have misread the situation, but she didn't lower the arrow she had aimed at Laurel and the woman she was inadvertently protecting by standing in front of.

She was also aware of the pair of archers to her side, and their arrows also aimed at her.

Laurel lifted an eyebrow, wordlessly questioning the absurd scenario they had found themselves in.

Okay. With Laurel, Roy, and Thea all accounted for, one Important question first.

"Where's Nyssa?"


	2. Chapter 2

Thea had a theory.

On good days, Thea had theories.

(On bad days everything was a conspiracy designed to annoy her.)

But since leaving Star City, despite their often questionable lodgings – being on the run was hard – Thea had more theories than conspiracies, and Laurel took that as a win.

One of Thea's more recent theories was that Laurel was never meant to be in their home in Star City, as evidenced by the over abundance of hardship she's had to face and deal with, and that maybe her destiny had always lain elsewhere. After all, her original Canary Cry had been inherited from Sara, who had gotten it from her time in Nanda Parbat, her costume came from STAR Labs in Central City, and neither of her main teachers en route to becoming the Black Canary were born or raised in Star City. She had met her once-best friend in law school, and had once even gotten a job offer for San Francisco.

Thea had been half-asleep from a sedative at the time, though, while the team stitched up a nasty gash on her arm, which contradicted Thea's "good day theories," but the point remained.

Laurel wasn't sure what to make of Thea's theory, but sometimes she entertained the idea that Thea might be right.

It made some choices easier to live with.

When she had surrendered herself to the training Nyssa thought she needed, she had known, or at least had been vaguely aware, that the training would not be in Star City, or anywhere close to it. Later, on the rare occasion in which she had the time or brain capacity to give it thought, she wondered if she had agreed to the training because it gave her a reason – or an excuse – to leave, to avoid Star City altogether.

She had also been aware that Nyssa would not be her sole instructor, and indeed had left her in the hands of various individuals, each with their own unique personalities and skills, and more often than not had left Laurel wondering what she had done to deserve such punishment from someone she considered a close friend. (Sometimes she even thought of Nyssa as her sister-in-law.)

But she trained. And she learned. And she became aware of the changes in her body, post-resurrection. She hadn't yet decided what she was going to do, if and when Nyssa decided she had sufficient training, especially now that Black Siren had taken over being this earth's Laurel Lance and there was someone else in the world who held the mantle of the Black Canary – and if that was ever going to stop to sting on a personal level – but she knew Nyssa was having her trained for a reason.

Even if that reason was just going to be self-preservation, now that Laurel knew just how much of a target she really was.

After all, Talia had called her a weapon.

She goes through the motions of training, of getting well and getting better, still unsure of what was expected of her, exactly, until Nyssa presented her with a choice, once she and Thea had agreed to follow Malcolm Merlyn's map and destroy all known Lazarus Pits, and realized joining them meant she was going to be expected to hold her own, considering they were being chased by stragglers from the former League of Assassins.

The other option was to continue her training without Nyssa's supervision, with the knowledge that should they fail in their mission, she may never see either Nyssa or Thea ever again.

It's not much of a choice, knowing that, not after having known what it was like to lose Sara; and maybe not by blood, but Nyssa and Thea have become her sisters, too.

It had been a rough start, for all of them, since Nyssa was the only one who had ever entered anything even close to their current endeavour, Roy had been in hiding and had not been chased by former assassins, Laurel wasn't exactly known for being mercenary, and Thea often grumbling this was not the romantic getaway she had envisioned with Roy when they left Star City.

But they eventually find their rhythm, and it helps that for Laurel, Thea, and Roy, they have always considered each other equals as a team, and they each take their cues from Nyssa, whose displays of hypercompetence were intimidating and kept them all from acting out or being too petulant.

Not that it was easy, being on the run. It's hitching rides as stowaways, paying off or outright bribing (or the occasional threatening) Nyssa or Roy's contacts for identities or paperwork, or having to split up and sometimes having to rely on yourself to stay out of danger (and stay alive) long enough to make it to the rendezvous point at the appointed hour.

It's not how Laurel ever envisioned travelling the world, but if Thea and Roy are anything to go by, she can understand how Nyssa's relationship with Sara would have developed, given the circumstances.

It was a point of contention between herself and Nyssa, the subject of Laurel's younger sister. Laurel had fallen out of the habit of regularly checking up on and checking in with Sara sometime after she had nearly lost the communicator twice in one week, somewhere around East Asia, and when your life had turned into a Mountain Dew or Red Bull commercial, you really didn't want your sister knowing how much you were putting your life in danger.

Even if – especially if – you had already died once.

After all, Laurel knew what life was like on the other side of the experience, and dealing with that knowledge was hard. But it was Laurel's way of reaching out, maybe making amends, maybe alleviating her guilt for taking off, choosing herself instead of dealing with things greater than for once, but she tried to reach out when she could, when she had relatively tame news to share.

Because Laurel was a talker – she'd been a lawyer in her past life, for heaven's sake – and having gone through AA, talking was her best form of therapy, to be able to deal with what was happening with her life.

So when she didn't have tame news, or when she didn't feel like talking to Sara, she turned to Nyssa.

She honestly can't tell if Nyssa was just extraordinarily patient, or able to tune out people at will.

Because Nyssa would sit and listen, sometimes even engage Laurel to draw out the conversation, figuring out how to get to the heart of the discussion.

But not when Laurel talked about Sara.

Nyssa never asked questions, and if not for the other woman's attention when Laurel volunteered the information, one could even be led to believe the other woman didn't care. But Laurel's been in love before, too, and sometimes the telling is in what she couldn't – wouldn't – talk about.

This was the woman, after all, who had gone through drastic measures in an attempt to get Sara back, who had entered a warzone with only a handful of assassins to help Oliver and Star City against Slade Wilson merely because Sara had _asked_ , who had been willing to break ties with Laurel and Thea and everyone else in Star City to get revenge against every and any person who had contributed to Sara's death.

But Laurel prodded when she could. She didn't know what made her so sure Nyssa wouldn't just leave her in some random country without a safety net, but Nyssa never did, and she continued to insist on asking her questions.

Faced with Sara's question, Laurel wondered if this was how Nyssa felt, each time, when Laurel asked the difficult questions and knowing there was no answer that would feel like the whole truth of the matter.

Sara kept her bow aimed at the woman behind Laurel, and Laurel was less concerned about Sara's aim than she was at Helena making the wrong move and getting an arrow for her effort.

"Where's Nyssa?" Sara repeated her question.

Laurel kept her gaze on her sister, willing Sara to calm down first – she had seen the residual effects of the Lazarus Pit on Thea, and she wondered if Sara still experienced that same blood lust from time to time – and spoke as calmly as she could. She nodded at the arrow Sara kept aimed. "You maybe wanna lower that first?"

Sara indicated the two archers off to the side with a tilt of her head. "Them first."

Laurel was willing to bet on Roy doing that, but Thea had dealt with enemies wearing friends' faces more than most – Laurel had never wanted to do more violence to anyone than when she heard about what Black Siren had done to Thea – and was almost certain Thea would not be so ready to lower her weapon.

Sara quirked an eyebrow at her sister. "You know you're standing in front of Helena Bertinelli, right?"

Behind Laurel, Helena bristled. "It's _Huntress_ , and who do—"

Laurel could feel the situation escalate, Helena was particularly sensitive about her name just casually being dropped by someone she didn't know, and preempted a dangerous outcome. "Everyone, just lower your weapons."

There was a pause that went around the room.

Laurel spared a glance at Thea. "It's okay."

Thea hesitated.

Laurel turned back to Sara, but when she spoke, it wasn't directed at her. "It's my sister. It's OK."

The archer behind Sara, using Helena's crossbow, only momentarily paused before he eased the weapon away from the intruder. "Funny way of showing it."

Sara rolled her eyes, and lowered the bow and arrow in her hands. "Hi to you too, Tommy."

This earth's version of Tommy Merlyn – this earth's version of the Arrow, apparently – took his weapons from Sara's hands, and walked towards Roy and Thea. "Are secret identities not sacred anymore?"

Now unarmed, Sara turned back to Laurel only for her breath to catch when she was suddenly wrapped up in a tight hug. Sara hesitated at first, but returned the hug, matching how tightly Laurel held onto her.

Just like their first embrace after Laurel had been resurrected, both sisters had not realized how much they had missed each other until they were together again, somehow finding strength in their reunion.

"Laur," Sara said softly, her voice betraying her trepidation, maybe knowing there was a reason Laurel held on so tightly. "Where's Nyssa?"

"Sara…"

Sara eased away, looking her sister in the eye, and Laurel felt so helpless, unable to just come out and say it.

"What happened?"

And the awful truth. "We lost her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. I'm sorry. I did warn you.


	3. Chapter 3

There were a lot of ways to interpret Laurel's answer.

The same unease that had characterized her wild goose chase, tracking down Nyssa's trail, then Talia, and finally Laurel; the unease that had led her here, now flared once more, and it took Sara a minute, unable to pinpoint what the unease was, exactly, finding it familiar but an oddly estranged feeling.

She imagined the last time she had felt similarly was learning about the Undertaking.

It was panic, something she hadn't felt for so long, something she hasn't really experienced since she started her work with the Legends. She had become so acquainted with knowing what to do, being confident in her ability to work out a situation – of Gideon being able to fix the worst injuries – that she had forgotten what it felt like to not have answers or solutions.

She struggled to stay calm, well aware of the weapons within the bunker and everyone but Roy watching them like a hawk, on a hair trigger just waiting to be given a reason to use a weapon, and fought to keep her voice steady. "What do you mean—"

Laurel paused, also seemingly aware of Sara's emotional turmoil and the tension of the other people in the room, and instead of answering offered, "Want to get out of here?"

Sara nodded.

Laurel took their leave as soon as she had changed her clothes, Thea obviously looking to argue but held at bay by something Laurel told her, and soon enough Sara was on the rooftop with Laurel, overlooking the city.

"I sent you a message ages ago," Laurel said softly, trying to keep the accusation from her voice, but knew Sara could hear it, anyway.

"I know." Sara sighed. "But the Waverider's been having a lot of bad days, and the communicator got fried in one of our worse days. Gideon was only able to get the logs, but not the messages."

"Then what's the point—"

"I know, Laurel." Sara cut her off, exasperated. "I know, okay? I'm sorry. But I'm here now."

Laurel didn't look convinced of Sara's reassurance, but she relented.

"Laur, when you say you lost—"

Laurel took a deep breath, bracing herself, and then admitted: "I don't know where she is."

Which was the wrong answer, she knew, because Sara recoiled, her body suddenly taut with tension. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean I don't know." Laurel confessed. She suddenly realized it had been a while, and with so much of what had happened since her resurrection having been kept a secret, and the hunt for Lazarus Pits shrouded in so much League secrecy, she had no idea what Sara knew – or, for that matter, what Oliver and the rest of their friends were aware of. "What do you know?"

"You mean other the fact that you've disappeared from the face of the Earth, _and_ I had to ask Caitlin for a clue where you are?" Sara returned.

"Caitlin? Thea left a message for Oliver."

Sara shook her head dismissively. "Their entire system crashed. Well, targeted. Felicity's servers – and all their backups – got fried."

Oh. They were going to have to tell Thea, who had been vacillating between annoyance and concern that her brother hadn't bothered to check in, that Oliver's lack of communication may not have been him being negligent. The messages they had received from Barry and Caitlin never said anything alarming, though, which was why they hadn't reached out themselves. "Do they—"

"They've handled it." Sara assured her.

Laurel let out a sigh of relief. That had been the primary concern they had when they had agreed to leave their Earth and find a new home, in their own form of witness protection: sure, their friends and family could get in touch with them if they wanted, but there had been no certainty in whether or not they would be able to get back in time should their help be needed.

"What are you even doing here, Laurel?" Sara asked curiously.

Laurel sighed. "It's kind of a long story."

Sara smiled wryly, returning to her seat beside Laurel. "I have time."

"What do you know about our mission?"

Sara sighed again. "I know Talia's claiming to be Ra's, the Thanatos Guild isn't a thing anymore, Thea may or may not be Heir, and Gideon couldn't find any of you."

Laurel couldn't explain that last part, but she could the first two (and maybe that Thea part).

Merlyn's map had indicated the possible location of three Lazarus Pits, and because of their mission to destroy them, Merlyn's acolytes – the Thanatos Guild – were on their trail, both to stop them and to convince Thea, if even forcibly, to take on the mantle of Demon's Head, as Malcolm Merlyn's heir.

("That son of a—" "It gets worse.")

Once they had dispatched those from Malcolm's map, they had realized none of the locations had been a stronghold for Talia's forces, which meant there was at least one more known Lazarus Pit in the world, and considering what Talia had done with the one in her possession, the group, led by Laurel's insistence, agreed they had to destroy that one too.

Which was easier said than done, considering they had no idea where the location of that last Lazarus Pit could be.

Laurel didn't even need to tell Sara what Nyssa's solution had been, her younger sister already shaking her head vehemently.

"No," Sara denied.

"Sara," Laurel attempted, but Sara stood up abruptly, walking to a spot a few feet away, still shaking her head.

"She wouldn't just..." Sara started, but stopped and instead started to pace. The panic, she realized belatedly, had not abated, and now compounded by a need to punch things. After a minute or two, she seemed to realize she was still missing part of the story, and asked: "And then what?"

"We don't know exactly what Nyssa offered Talia, but they made a deal for Nyssa to claim Talia back as part of the league, for them to both rule as Ra's." Laurel told her, watching her carefully. Sara felt like Laurel was looking for something, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what Laurel could be looking for. "In exchange for the Lazarus Pit."

"Wait," Sara interrupted. "They were going to rule together?"

Laurel nodded. "Nyssa didn't want to name her as Heir—"

"Talia wouldn't stop trying to find ways to get her killed," Sara concluded.

"And only a direct claim from Nyssa would have worked," Laurel continued.

"Talia left the League, the only way they would even respect her returning is if the claim came from Nyssa," Sara nodded. "She can't abdicate, and she's the only one who can call back members of the League." She paused when she noticed Laurel looking at her oddly, if with a hint of amusement. "What?"

"Nothing." But Laurel couldn't help the smile pulling on her lips. "Nyssa didn't bother explaining any of it to us. Never thought we could have just asked you."

Sara smiled wryly, but didn't provide the verbal confirmation that the reason she knew and understood the situation was because as the former Heir's beloved, it had been expected of her – unofficially, it had been her duty – to understand the politics involved in ruling what was, for all intents and purposes, a sovereign nation.

"Is that why Thea's Heir?" Sara asked.

"I'm not actually sure if she is," Laurel admitted. She raked her fingers through her hair before lifting her hand in a helpless gesture. "She says she isn't, but just like with Malcolm, nobody has to tell her for it to be true."

Sara was going to have to talk to Thea: That whole situation had the makings of a major headache. She refocused. "But something happened; the plan went sideways, didn't it?"

"The last of the Thanatos Guild found us." Laurel confirmed. "Nyssa and Talia didn't want too many in their ranks to know where the Pit was, so we didn't have a lot of people with us. Roy was hurt early on, and he did his best to hold them off, but there were too many of them—"

"But you got out," Sara pointed out.

"Barely," Laurel admitted. "Thea says—"

"Wait, Thea says?" Sara repeated. She narrowed her eyes at her sister. "What happened?"

Laurel sighed. "We think it was a poison. We're not sure."

A breakaway faction of the League of Assassins owning a poison, and Laurel surviving it? Sara's brow furrowed.

Laurel lifted her hand in supplication, having been made aware of the implications of her recovery. "I know."

Sara didn't know where to begin in wondering aloud about the gifts that had been bestowed upon Laurel from her resurrection from a Lazarus Pit. She imagined even Nyssa would have been perplexed by it, and would have spared no expense in getting answers. Sara had no doubt nothing less than the title of Ra's al Ghul would have been enough a trade for any information Talia had, all things considered.

"Thea barely got me out." Laurel continued. "I remember that much."

Sara looked away.

"We tried to go back, but whatever Nyssa or Talia had the League do has made the island impossible to navigate. The temple's been caved in pretty thoroughly. Barry said—"

"Wait, Barry said?" Sara cut in again. How much did the Central City team know?

"I called in a favor," Laurel explained. "We had to try, Sara."

Sara met her gaze.

The _or worse_ was heavily implied.

And Sara would love her for it, loved her for not verbalizing the worst thing Barry Allen could have found, but the fact remained Nyssa was not among Laurel's team in this new Earth, and the Waverider's AI could not provide any information on the whereabouts of one Nyssa al Ghul.

There was a logical conclusion to be made, but Sara refused to reach it.

Hence the punching of things.

The setup of Laurel's team's headquarters closely resembled the Earth-1 bunker, and while Laurel went off to explain to Tommy and Helena the situation, Sara took the time to use one of the punching bags, trying to formulate a plan that would not mess with the timeline.

She was not known for her discipline, her obedience. She was the wayward Lance sister, after all. But she had been good – so good – about not messing with the timeline to keep Laurel alive after that ill-fated April night, or to bring her back after she'd died. She had obeyed everyone when they had told her she shouldn't, and, sure, it had worked out, a qualified thanks to Talia, but this felt a whole lot more confusing, because there was such a huge question mark involved, and Sara felt like being pulled in so many different directions.

A lie –because all those different directions led to the same place, and much like when she had courted war in chasing down Talia, she wanted to burn the whole world down just for someone to tell her where Nyssa was. That Nyssa was alive.

That Nyssa had done what she'd said was her new mission, to fix what had become her father's legacy, to destroy that which had corrupted him. She had, after all, trained Laurel to the point that she now had her own team, prepared Laurel to come into her own.

Maybe Laurel didn't yet have all the answers regarding her resurrection, but with the destruction of the Lazarus Pits, they no longer had to worry of complications, of others being resurrected and receiving the same gifts.

"She saved our lives."

Sara didn't falter in her punches, but took the time to slow down, to calm herself before she turned to face Thea. "What?"

Thea looked uncomfortable, but unrepentant in what she was sharing. "We had a deal: no matter what happened, we had to get Laurel out."

"Thea—"

"We've seen the world without Laurel in it; we agreed the world is better when she's in it." Thea continued, ignoring Sara's abandoned interruption. "The Canary Cry was supposed to be our Hail Mary, but when Laurel got hit with the dart, we had to improvise."

Sara sighed, because as much as she wanted to get mad at Thea – and Nyssa, if she was being honest – she could understand where they had been coming from. More than herself, she imagined Laurel's death, and subsequent resurrection, meant most to the two women who had become surrogate, almost adoptive, sisters to Laurel.

Taking in the lineaments of defeat and resignation in Sara's posture, Thea realized the fight, maybe even a physical attack, that she had been anticipating would not be coming, and she stepped closer to Sara. "She told me to give you this."

It took Sara a moment, and then realized Thea was holding out a sheathed knife in her hand. The sheath and handle were ornately carved, and she knew the blade itself would be just as intricately carved – she had endured the lecture on the value of a pristine blade, but she had ignored those lectures in favour of her own tendency towards pretty things. Instead of taking the knife, she looked up at Thea with an indiscernible look in her eyes. "I gave her this."

Thea had figured as much. Nyssa had been hesitant about handing it over, that last night, but there had been some kind of resolve which she hadn't understood until later, and she had done her best to abide by Nyssa's wishes, her orders. "When we left, she gave Ollie a knife, she said it's—"

"I know." Sara cut her off, unwilling to hear the explanation. And she does know. In the League of Assassins, weaponry had been the only acceptable gift among those within its ranks; knives had been the most common, and being presented with one, from one or both individuals, represented either a bond being forged, or the severing of that bond.

Sara knows exactly what the knife, and Nyssa giving it to Thea to assure its return to Sara, meant.

It answered the question of whether or not Nyssa had ever meant to see Sara again.

It did not answer Nyssa's predicted outcome of their mission.

Sara took the knife, unsheathed it just enough so she could study the carving on the blade. It had been her first, maybe only, indulgent expense while she had been in the League. To most other people the design was just that, artistry, but she could discern the curves that masked their names in Nyssa's first language and what had then been new to Sara.

Sara looked up at Thea. She realized, suddenly, that she had been asking the wrong party about that last mission. She loved Laurel, and Nyssa had obviously cared about her tremendously, but the hunt for Lazarus Pits had not been Laurel's mission, and she had not been the person Nyssa confided in about the finer details of those plans.

She had basked in the affectionate title of being the Heir's Beloved for too long, the privilege and protection that came with it, and Sara knew it was time she took that role seriously.

If Nyssa thought she was taking that away – through _Thea,_ of all people – she was profoundly mistaken.

"Tell me everything."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might feel a little disjointed to read, and I tried to fix it, but the option was rewriting the whole thing and I just need to have this part of the story out. Please be kind. 
> 
> Read. Enjoy.

Just in case she had been shy or subtle about it, she wanted it to on record that she hates Malcolm Merlyn.

Loathes. Despises.

Actively. She did not respect the dead, in his case.

Nyssa retrieved her knife from where she had earlier buried it in one of her opponents, looked down at herself, and after considering the bloodstained state of her clothes, cleaned the blood off the knife with the clothing of the fallen.

 _The blood of her enemies_ , indeed.

She glanced over at the hidden exit door, the one she had sent Talia, Thea and a semiconscious Laurel through, and hoped they made it to Talia's boat okay. She knew Talia would be tempted to get rid of Nyssa's people, but Talibah was with them, and hers would be the word that would confirm or deny Talia's assertion to the title of Ra's al Ghul. The worst thing Talia would dare to do was get rid of Thea, who had claim as Heir to the Magician.

And Laurel. Sister of the former Taer al-Asfar, and Sara Lance would always be known within the League as Beloved to the former Heir.

Laurel, who had been hit by a poison dart. Laurel, who by all rights should have died within moments. Laurel, who struggled to stand and remain in the fight, but remained alive.

Nyssa wondered if she should have swallowed her pride at one point and shared with Sara the knowledge and concern Laurel's instructors have shared regarding Laurel.

Too late now.

For many things. She hoped Sara was well, wherever – _when_ ever – she may be.

Even if she was well aware Sara would be more than a little annoyed about... well, perhaps _everything_.

Taking in the number of the fallen in this inner chamber with her, Nyssa wondered how Roy and the few former – _former?_ – assassins that were loyal to her had fared in their own fights.

Although, considering Athena and members of the Guild had reached the enclave, Nyssa dared to hope, maybe in futility, the people she had assigned to guard the perimeter were well.

Nyssa felt the pull in her side, bringing her hand to an injury she knew would be there – the wound had been deep, and procured early in the fight – and as she pulled her hand away, considered the damage, taking a deep breath and gauging the pain incurred. Almost in exasperation, she took in the amount of blood on her palm, and wondered how much fight was still left in her, in case there were stragglers left from the opposing side.

And considered her odds, knowing she still had to trigger the explosion that would level this structure to the ground, all while escaping in the scant minutes she had planned.

The Canary Cry was supposed to be their backup plan, damn it. Considering the damage already done to the structure from when Talia had brought Laurel back, it had been easy to ascertain the Canary Cry could finish the job, should they fail to trigger the explosions.

 _Alas_... Nyssa sighed. Surely there was a limit to how often Laurel would be a homing device for getting hurt in a fight.

She shook her head, and tried to focus. She reckoned the blood loss was taking its toll.

Nyssa stumbled to where the explosives had been set up, bittersweetly regarding the Lazarus Pit beside it; one of the Pits that had started all this chaos.

She couldn't be too resentful, admittedly. It had brought Laurel back. She had seen for herself the renewed Sara Lance, had witnessed how much better her beloved was doing with her new life. And it was due to Laurel's return she herself had come to terms with Talia, who had all but abandoned her to the League and their father when Nyssa had been so young; who had left knowing their father would never hand over the League to his daughters, and now they were both to be the demon's head.

She loathed the thought, but it had been the only compromise Talia was willing to accept.

She wondered how effectively her choices would erode her soul.

To find that out, she supposed, she would first have to get the hell out of this temple.

Or, perhaps more importantly, stay alive.

Easier said than done.

Nyssa rested her weight against the edge of the Lazarus Pit, internally cursing whoever had designed this structure, wondered how Talia had even known of it when it had not been in the Magician's map, or any of the tomes she had retrieved from Nanda Parbat.

Perhaps Talia had been more productive in her exile than having momentarily aided Oliver Queen during his.

At least Talia seemed to have avoided acquiring enemies the way Mr. Queen had.

She honestly wondered why so many otherwise-sensible women were so charmed by her father's idea of a cruel joke. In hindsight she really should have asked Laurel.

Nyssa glanced down at the dark depths of this particular Lazarus Pit, and recalled Laurel's memories of it, the trauma of waking up drowning and the nightmares that had not abated for a very long time.

As she checked the explosive, she wondered, not for the first time, why Laurel had been bestowed with gifts, when her memories of all the other times a Lazarus Pit had been used were marked with so much despair and desperation.

People came back from the Lazarus Pit changed. The bloodlust was the most consistent change among them.

Laurel had become more ruthless, perhaps as a consequence of what Nyssa had put her through; but while Laurel has proven to be capable of it, still not so eager to kill.

She wondered if that would change.

She wondered how much Sara had changed.

Perhaps it was her introspection, or just a complete lack of awareness of her surroundings, but she really should have been more cautious, more alert.

Nyssa turned quickly when she heard a rustle behind her, but while the knife she threw was aimed true and caught the assassin in the throat, it had not interrupted the arrow that had been aimed at her. An arrow that found its mark, causing her to lose her balance and following its momentum.

As she fell back, Nyssa glanced down at the arrow lodged in her chest, and could only muster the bemused observation that Merlyn's people were remarkably consistent with where to place their aim.

Pity this would be the last thing she would share with her beloved in this lifetime.

* * *

"Sara," Laurel called out, drawing the attention of her younger sister, who was checking all the dark-clad bodies, searching for one in particular but not finding the signature red she wanted to see, while also making sure all the bodies dressed in the uniform Laurel had identified as the Thanatos Guild were truly dead.

Sara, who had been examining the fresh-looking blood coming from the throat of one such assassin, recognizing the blade and not for the first time admiring the aim of her beloved, quickly retrieved Nyssa's knife, hastily cleaning it on the dead assassin's clothes, and joined Laurel by the Pit. "What?"

Laurel pointed to the edge of the Pit, what looked like blood. "Handprint?"

Sara frowned, not nodding in the affirmative, but instead looked around them for any indication of where Nyssa must have disappeared to.

There was a trail of blood leading up to where they were standing – Nyssa had been bleeding, and pretty badly, from what Sara could ascertain – but the trail stopped where they stood. Save for the bloody handprint, and the dozens of bodies around them, there was no indication of where Nyssa could have gone.

Laurel frowned, staring at the still waters of the Lazarus Pit that had brought her back, that had given her a second life, and her brow furrowed in thought. She didn't like to dwell on it, had made the deliberate effort to accept the memories, the nightmares, the feeling of being brought back, ripped from the peace she had known and back into this loud, chaotic world.

She accepted them, sometimes she fooled herself into thinking the memories have gotten hazy, but she could never truly forget.

Sara noticed Laurel's expression. "What?"

"I was drowning."

"What?"

Laurel looked at her. "Most of it comes and goes, but I remember that part. I woke up drowning."

"Okay..." Sara shook her head, not comprehending the thought Laurel was trying to impart.

Laurel turned to the Lazarus Pit beside them, and removed her jacket.

"What—"

Laurel turned to her, and met her sister's bewildered gaze. "I woke up drowning, fighting for my life and for air. I had to swim, before they brought up the net to lift me up. This isn't like the others, it isn't shallow. This isn't just a Pit."

Sara's eyes widened in understanding, and she nodded, finishing the thought. "It's a well."

Laurel had changed her costume from the collection of buckles that had been the primary characteristic of her Black Canary uniform, but Sara's clothes were still far simpler, and she had been lost at sea twice, and she was definitely not going to leave the job of saving Nyssa to Laurel.

Once Sara disappeared beneath the surface, Laurel looked around once more, hoping to find the ropes or netting that had been used to lift her up from the water.

She still wasn't convinced Sara was right about this excursion – this two-woman mission – not messing up the timeline, especially considering the members of the Thanatos Guild they had _decommissioned_ on their way to this temple, but in the list of people Laurel was willing to break rules for, Nyssa certainly belonged.

She hasn't considered religion in a very long time, but Laurel believes her prayers are answered when Sara breaks the surface of the water, holding an unconscious Nyssa.

* * *

She's known panic before.

It had led her out of Nyssa's bed, once upon a time, sneaking out in the middle of the night and away from Nanda Parbat and the life she had come to know, and back to the home she had grown up in.

She's also been helpless before. It's what led her to working for Ivo, and later to swearing fealty to the League of Assassins.

It had been a sinking feeling of hopelessness that had led her to beg Ra's for help in fighting Slade; the only thing that had cut through the despair of what had felt like an inevitable defeat was finding Nyssa among the League assassins going to Starling, and deciding being estranged while taking a last stand in Starling was not how their story should end.

It's coming back from the dead, realizing the world had moved on, and having to figure out who she was in a world that had learned to live without her. It's knowing she would not have the support of her friends, maybe not even from her family, nor from members of the League, if she dared to free Nyssa from Nanda Parbat's dungeons, and having to accept that whatever was to come next, she and Nyssa would not be at each other's side for it.

It's missing Nyssa so profoundly, constantly wanting to return to her but all the while having to stay away from her, knowing she was a distraction Nyssa could not afford.

It was the frantic feeling as she had stared at the lack of information on Laurel's whereabouts, uncomprehending as Gideon had explained there was no trace of Nyssa after that last excursion to destroy a Lazarus Pit with Laurel, Thea, and Roy, and had immediately set off to find them.

To find Laurel, ostensibly.

To also find Nyssa, preferably.

She had underestimated how deep panic could set in her bones, an unknowable fear ever present but unnamed and unheeded, until she took everything Thea could tell her, and came up with a plan.

This plan.

She had not considered the possibility of _this part_ of the plan.

Pleading with Nyssa to wake up – _wake up, Nyssa, please, pleasepleaseplease just wake up_ – because Gideon can fix anything, but Gideon would need some sign of life, any kind of brain activity, to make it happen.

And for the first time in the entirety of having known her, Nyssa was giving her nothing.

* * *

This was the reason why the Black Canary was currently absent in her new home.

Laurel eyed the formation skeptically, the structure that housed the Lazarus Pit, currently rigged to detonate, but members of the Thanatos Guild had killed the men who were supposed to set up the remote trigger.

She understood, sort of, Nyssa and Thea's plan, considering she had already done part of the damage without even knowing it, the temple damaged by her screams when she had been brought back, and why one of the things Laurel had learned and been training to do was measure the pitch and frequency of her Canary Cry.

Thea had called it their Hail Mary, and Laurel had to agree. It was definitely an extreme plan of action.

But it was preferable to what had obviously been Plan B, which was for one of them – apparently Nyssa – to play the odds and set off the explosions with only a ten-second head start.

She was going to have to kill Nyssa for having such a stupid back up plan.

Then again maybe relying on Laurel's powers, despite her growing competency with them, was not that much better.

Sara had offered to call in Ray, who could use his ATOM suit to go and set up the remote trigger, if not set off the detonation himself and fly out, but they both knew that would take time, and they were already risking the timeline as it was. Which made that possibly an even worse plan than Nyssa's.

Laurel turned back to the formation, and nodded to herself, psyching herself up.

Black Siren had done this easily, and that had been a structure of steel and cement, and she remembered being horrified and awed when she'd watched the footage of the destruction, knowing an alternate version of her had done it.

So she could do it. In theory. She's just only ever attempted to do it with smaller targets.

Could Thea have told her this sooner, so she could have practiced and honed her ability to do what they had apparently expected her to accomplish? Definitely.

But she was here now, with an additional year of growing into her powers, so she _should_ be able to do it.

Well, go big or go home, right?

And she really wanted to go home.

* * *

It might be the sonic scream, the shockwaves that come from it, or the detonations that go off in response, but as the reverberations of the destruction hit the shuttle, Nyssa gasped, finally taking air into her lungs, and with it allowing Sara to sigh in relief.

Nyssa was unfocused, but her gaze fell upon Sara, confused. "Sara?"

Sara nodded, ignoring the sharp sting of tears in her eyes, unable to stem the overwhelming tide of emotions she had been so unsuccessfully trying to keep at bay for months. She leaned down to press her forehead to Nyssa's, wanting to be as close as possible, needing to feel the other woman breathe.

Nyssa remained confused; had endless questions, in fact, but she felt Sara's relief, almost as her own, and the questions became secondary.

Another sonic scream broke the air, making the interior of the shuttle rattle once more with the vibrations.

Nyssa sighed. She could ask this question. "Did it work? Laurel?"

"It's working."

Nyssa nodded, her relief palpable.

"It was a risky plan."

"I am aware," Nyssa replied.

"Nyssa..." Sara started, the words that made up the rant about many aspects of what had transpired – the plan and its outcomes – all building up inside her, wanting an outlet for the frustration that had hounded her endlessly. Instead, taking in the exhaustion evident in Nyssa's face, and knowing she would only probably end up crying, Sara could only sigh. Sara kissed her brow, allowing herself that small indulgence, and whispered her reassurance in Nyssa's native language. " _Rest, habibti. You're safe now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: I just realized this story, especially this chapter, reads a lot like [Nerdgirlwalking's The Dreams In Which I'm Dying](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4397354), proving influences run deep and in this case mimicry is a sincere form of flattery, so please go read that.


	5. Chapter 5

She is never doing that again.

Or maybe not for a long time.

A very long time.

Or.

Laurel blinked awake slowly, taking in the sounds around her. The last thing she remembered was climbing back into Sara's shuttle, being told Nyssa had woken up, and promptly—Laurel slapped a hand to her head. "Son of a—"

"Did you bring down a temple that has lasted centuries only to promptly faint? Yes." Came the amused comment from somewhere to her right.

Laurel turned her head, and took in the sight of Nyssa on a hospital bed probably much like the one she was on. For someone who had shown no signs of life when Sara had dragged her out of the Lazarus Pit, though, Nyssa looked well.

Not for the first time, Laurel wondered how it was Nyssa looked just as dangerous stripped of her armor as she was when wearing it.

"That was an insane plan." Laurel admonished.

"I am aware."

"Why didn't you and Thea tell me?"

"You would have let your fear take reign," Nyssa answered. "But in the moment, you could always be expected to do what needs doing."

"How could you have been sure? I've never—"

"Laurel, the foundation of the temple had already been compromised. By you." Nyssa pointed out. She shrugged. "Thea and I had assumed you would be able to finish the job."

"Gee, thanks." Laurel rolled her eyes. "Next time, you two should warn me if I'm doing something that insane."

"Perhaps you would not need to be warned next time."

Laurel allowed herself a small smile, because, yeah, now knowing she could do _that_? She had known her sonic ability was a weapon, but now she couldn't wait to figure out what else she could do with it.

"And the poison?"

Nyssa hummed. She has had time to give it thought, how Laurel had been affected by but ultimately survived the poison dart, and the conclusion she had reached had not been something she was particularly happy with, since it had not come from her instruction, but she could not help but be relieved that it had been done, even if Laurel was likely to hate her for it.

Laurel narrowed her eyes. "Well?"

"Perhaps you recall a period in your training wherein you were constantly ill and weakened?" Nyssa questioned.

Laurel frowned, racking her brain, until she recalled early in her training, under one of the worst of her teachers, those days and nights when the fight training would be so much she often found herself throwing up; when days would end and she would all but collapse in her bed, only to wake up and start another day of endless physical exertion. "What does—"

"It is quite possible you were not as weak as you were led to believe," Nyssa admitted.

Laurel stared at her, horrified. "I was being poisoned?"

"You were being made to build immunity," Nyssa reasoned.

"What the actual—"

"You are a target and we do not know how your enemies would come for you," Nyssa reminded.

"That is such a violation of—"

"It was necessary."

"That's insane." Laurel accused.

"It has kept you alive, has it not?"

Well, sure, but she wasn't _okay_ with the _how_ of it. "I hate you so much right now."

"Understandably."

She could dwell on her indignation, the blatant violation of her trust – she was in NA, for crying out loud, she's pretty sure poisons would be included – but Laurel had to concede she liked being _alive_ , and could get mad at Nyssa later – glad she and Nyssa were both alive to have a _later_ – but she knew there was a more pressing matter to discuss. She let out a sigh, and turned back to Nyssa. "Has Sara explained things to you?"

"In the vaguest of terms," Nyssa allowed. "You live in an alternate universe?"

"I had to hide Thea." Laurel reminded. "Your sister is insane."

Nyssa nodded, not refuting that statement. "And I understand we have travelled back to a future point of time?"

"You were missing from the timeline for over a year." Laurel told her.

Nyssa was not entirely sure how that worked out, even as a means of an explanation, but she also understood Laurel's concern. She looked at Laurel. "Had it been up to me, I would not have meant to worry you, Laurel."

"A _year_ , Nyssa."

"I have yet to fully understand the intricacies of time travel," Nyssa excused. "For you, I had been absent a year; as I had been told, even longer, for Sara. For me, it could be any amount of time."

Laurel also relented, because, yes, on the surface Nyssa had only lost an hour at most, but she was coming back after everyone else had already lived over a year without her.

She can't believe she's thinking it, but she's almost grateful Talia had kept her hostage for a period of time after being brought back, at least long enough to catch her up on events that had occurred since she had died, to grasp what that meant.

Nyssa glanced at Laurel, and noted, "I cannot imagine this mission had been sanctioned by those in charge of protecting the timeline."

Especially considering the one in charge of monitoring the activities of Sara's team was Sara's girlfriend? Or, if their interaction when Sara had introduced her sister to Ava Sharpe, maybe not-quite-girlfriend, the introduction having been stiff and formal, which Laurel hadn't been able to figure out, more of a formality since Sara was bringing a civilian onboard. Laurel had not been part of the subsequent discussion, of Sara going back in time with Laurel, but she couldn't imagine it having gone smoothly.

Now that she thought about it, that probably explained why they had only been allowed the shuttle and their own two-person team and not the Waverider and the rest of Sara's team.

"Is that why you're hiding in here with me?" Laurel queried.

Nyssa smiled faintly, but lifted her hand – or attempted to. Her wrist was bound by a restraint to the bed, something Laurel had somehow missed the entire time they have been talking. As Laurel checked, both of Nyssa's wrists were bound.

Laurel lifted an eyebrow.

"A precaution, while Sara is off the ship."

"Her team's afraid of you." Laurel interpreted.

"Understandably." Nyssa mused. "As you can attest, we still do not know all the effects of this particular Lazarus Pit."

At the reminder, Laurel sat up straighter. "Did—Were you...?"

At that, Nyssa fell silent. When she had awoken in what Sara called her time ship, she had felt different – significantly differently from what she had expected, having been wounded in that last battle, and she definitely remembered having an arrow hitting her chest – but beyond that, she did not feel any of the unsettled discomfort Thea had described from her own experience from having been resurrected in a Lazarus Pit.

She had also poured the solution that should have stripped the Pit of its power, which further complicated matters.

Sara has consulted the man who had restored her own soul, who, while yet unable to examine her personally, had posited that since the Pit had depths beyond the usual, its effects ranged, considering what had happened to Laurel, and now Nyssa; which was the best explanation she had on offer, as she truly did not understand what could have happened.

"Nyssa?" Laurel's voice snapped her back to their conversation, and Nyssa gave her a faint smile.

"I apologize. It has been the strangest of days." Nyssa told her.

Laurel studied her curiously. In her experience, Nyssa was not known for spacing out during a conversation. "Are you OK?"

Nyssa paused, appearing to give that question some thought, before she acknowledged, "That remains to be seen."

"Is something wrong?"

Nyssa looked so unsure, something Laurel could never have imagined, and her next response explained the uncertainty. "I should have died."

"But you didn't."

"No, Laurel, I—" Nyssa cut herself off shortly, and attempted a different explanation. "I was mortally wounded, Laurel. We know what the Lazarus Pit does. But we had done what was needed."

"But you didn't." Laurel repeated.

"Laurel—"

"Nyssa." Laurel interrupted softly. "Not to rain on your martyrdom parade, here, but if you want to play that card, I've got that card, too. We can play this game, if that's what you want. But you know what I've learned, since Talia brought me back?"

"The proper way to fight?"

Laurel ignored the obvious jab at her pre-resurrection fighting skills. "That what we thought should have happened doesn't always have to be what was meant to happen." Laurel confided. "Because if that were true, I should have ended up married to my long-term boyfriend, and, trust me, I can't imagine what could have happened if that were true."

Knowing the long-term boyfriend in question, Nyssa gave Laurel a weary glare. "It is a fate worse than death."

"Okay, maybe not the best example," Laurel said as an apology, but: "I maintain my point."

"This is your attempt at making me feel better? It is abysmal."

"I'm trying to tell you maybe you came out of that Lazarus Pit for a reason." Laurel retorted. "I'm being a wise older sister, here."

"I am older than you."

"By months. But you were gone for a year, so technically..."

"It is basic Maths."

Laurel fought the urge to roll her eyes – her sisters were so obstinate and stubborn, honestly – and redirected the conversation. "What else happened while I was out?"

"We are not finished with this conversation."

"Have you proposed to Sara yet?"

Nyssa stared at her.

Laurel returned her look. "What? You know the reason you're here now is because she nearly went crazy looking for you in the timeline, right?"

Nyssa's expression, which had been so skeptical just a moment ago, had adopted a more concerned mien.

Laurel noticed. "She—Nyssa, have you and Sara talked?"

"On matters pertaining to her rescue and why we are on her time ship; I had assumed you broke protocol and contacted her."

 _Protocol_. Because Nyssa had agreed with Laurel that Sara did not need to know about the more dangerous aspects of their mission. As if Nyssa dying was just another aspect of the dangers involved. "Are you serious?" Laurel hissed. "Because from what she's told me, she made your crusade to burn down Star City to find her killer look like a reasonable response."

"Finding her killer to gain vengeance was perfectly reasonable."

"You know that's not the point I was trying to make." Laurel pointed out.

"There are extenuating circumstances, Laurel."

"She went back in time for you and you came back from the brink of death, how can you even say that?" Laurel demanded.

Before Nyssa could answer, though, they both turned as the door to the medbay opened, and Sara walked in with Caitlin Snow in tow.

"Look at who finally woke up," Sara quipped, taking the seat beside Nyssa's bed while Caitlin went on to Laurel's bedside. "How are you, Laur?"

"Fine," Laurel said absently, her gaze still fixed on Nyssa, who deliberately ignored her to focus her attention at Sara. Laurel knew she had improved greatly in her ability to fight, but she still wasn't confident she could take Nyssa or Sara, and that was the only reason she didn't point out the obvious and teased them about how obvious they were being with their lovestruck expressions.

"Weren't you supposed to be on a mission?" Nyssa queried to her beloved.

"Yeah. Getting a doctor." Sara motioned at Caitlin. "I mean, Gideon does the work, but I figured you two would deal better with a human touch."

"I have assured you, I am well," Nyssa insisted.

"And I've told you, I'm just making sure," Sara returned. "Especially since Constantine can't drop by yet. Besides, Laurel was out for two days."

At that, Laurel turned to Nyssa.

"Did I not mention that?" Nyssa asked blandly.

Laurel sighed, and turned to Caitlin, who was checking her vitals. "I'm also fine. I'm sure you have better things to do."

Caitlin shrugged. "Cisco and Barry wouldn't stop freaking out, knowing you're the reason an entire island's topography is messed up, so think of this as us checking in on you."

Recalling the destruction they had faced, the few times they had returned to the island in an attempt at finding and retrieving Nyssa, back when she had been unaware of the cause of the destruction, Laurel could certainly understand the concern.

"Does your throat hurt? At all?" Caitlin asked curiously. "Something as big as that should have at least caused some stress, or something."

"No," Laurel admitted.

"Other than having been in a coma," Sara said flatly.

Laurel sent her a look of loathing, but to Caitlin, she smiled. "I'm fine."

Caitlin shook her head, obviously impressed. "If you're as fine as your vitals say, and you're finally awake after being out for two days, we'll probably just need to make sure nothing averse happens for the next few days." Caitlin allowed. "After that, I don't see why Sara would need to keep you on this ship for much longer. Or, hey, get off the ship and hang out--"

"Are you sure?" Sara asked, interrupting. "Because you just said, that should have caused stress."

"She _was_ sleeping," Caitlin pointed out. "Whatever her body felt, it's recuperated enough while she was under."

"Awesome. How long are we talking? Days? Weeks?" Laurel asked.

"Can't wait to get back to Tommy?" Sara teased. She smirked, catching the murderous look Laurel sent her. "Or is it Helena, I couldn't tell."

"Consider this the reason why you're not getting a Christmas present this year," Laurel retorted, regretting now how she hadn't made fun of her sister when she had entered the room. "Or any year. Ever."

Nyssa and Caitlin didn't bother to check Sara's expression at the threat, too intent on the blush creeping up Laurel's cheeks.

"It's a long story," Laurel told them.

She had little doubt she was going to end up telling them, though.

"So you're going back?" Caitlin asked.

Laurel glanced at Nyssa and Sara, and then returned her gaze to Caitlin. "They're my team. Thea and Roy are there."

Caitlin nodded her understanding, even as she smiled knowingly. "And Tommy and Helena."

Laurel groaned.

Caitlin glanced over her shoulder at Nyssa. "Are we going to have to send out a heads up to Laurel's team to set up an extra new identity for you, too?"

"No." Sara said quickly, curtly, before Caitlin even finished her question, and as everyone turned to look at her at the frank outburst, whatever candor and lightheartedness Sara had adopted previously gave way as she allowed her upset to show. She took in the expressions on the faces of the other women in the room, the concern from Laurel and Nyssa, and Caitlin's own confused one.

"Sara—" Nyssa started, but Sara sprang from her seat, shaking her head.

She knows Nyssa, despite their time apart, and she knows that tone. That's Nyssa's placating voice, the one that back in Nanda Parbat had been reserved for private moments, when the Heir had been about to break unpleasant news.

It had been Nyssa's tone when she'd had to tell Sara her father had disallowed Taer al Asfer even the briefest of visits to Starling City, after the Undertaking.

Sara knows they're not in the League anymore, that Nyssa is Ra's and they are no longer ruled by her father's rules, but that tone had never bode well in the past.

"No. You—You _died_ , Nyssa. And I just broke like way too many rules about time travel to get you back, rules I couldn't break for Laurel, and you're, what, just gonna—"

"Habibti—" Nyssa moved to reach for Sara, but the recoil of the restraint forced her back, giving Sara the opportunity to escape. Nyssa growled, glaring at the restraint, and while they had no doubt Nyssa could free herself sooner or later, Laurel knew she and Caitlin shared the concern that Nyssa would destroy the bed if she wasn't free in the next ten seconds.

"Let me just," Caitlin touched the restraint, covering it with a layer of ice and making it shatter. Nyssa spared a quick thanks to Caitlin as she freed her other wrist with a knife procured from some hidden pocket on her clothes, before sprinting after Sara.

Laurel looked at Caitlin, impressed. "Neat trick."

Caitlin turned to her with a smug smile – that must be the Frost part of her, Laurel concluded – and indicated over her shoulder the door through which both Sara and Nyssa had disappeared. "Are we really not gonna watch that, or are we just giving them a head start?"

Laurel was out of bed and at her side instantly. "We're totally watching that."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who have read and is reading this story and the series, I appreciate every kudo and all the comments, thank you so much for liking the story. I hope the end of this part makes up for everything I put you through in the early chapters. 
> 
> Read. Enjoy.

Having opted to remained constrained to the infirmary for the duration of her stay aboard the Waverider, and Sara having called the ship home for the better part of the past few years (she has lost count, and she hates having lost time the way they have), Nyssa found herself lost in the middle of the ship's corridor, unable to discern in which direction her Beloved – _Sara_ – might have disappeared to.

Luckily – or perhaps fate has taken pity on her plight – two of Sara's teammates emerged from one of the hallways, hopefully able to provide Nyssa with answers on Sara's whereabouts. She recognized Raymond Palmer, but had only encountered the other man when he would check in on Sara at the infirmary.

She was well aware of the fact that despite having been onboard for two days, introductions have not been made.

"Are you supposed to be out of the medbay?" Not-Raymond Palmer asked, alarmed.

Nyssa ignored the inquiry, focusing instead on the one she knew would provide her the answer she required.

She didn't even need to ask the question, her gaze barely landing on Ray Palmer before he was pointing down the hallway they had just emerged from. "Training room. You won't miss it."

He has in that instant risen in her estimation from when she had last encountered him, and she resolved to be less wary of him being a member of the team supposed to watch Sara's back on their missions.

She should probably have been more concerned about approaching Sara while the blond woman was upset, gauging from her quick escape possibly not in the mood to talk – she recalled not a few times back in the League when Sara would storm off from a disagreement (one did not _argue_ with the Heir) only to be found sparring in the courtyards, or in the training rooms – but Nyssa knew she and Sara had to clear this air, and she had just _died_ , and self-preservation was the least of her concerns.

Thea had done as instructed, Sara had made it clear. They have not discussed what it meant.

Perhaps Laurel was right in being concerned regarding their lack of communication.

Whether the outcome likely to be incurred from this interaction would be physical harm, or, as Nyssa predicted, emotional, was a different matter altogether. But what was love, if not the constant risk of being vulnerable in the hands of another person.

Besides, if she were to be honest, this was not the first time Nyssa had approached Sara while the other woman was intent on venting her frustrations out, and at least Sara had learned to use a training dummy and not a hapless League trainee that would need to be dismissed and spared from Taer al Asfer's wrath.

Granted, Nyssa had not been aware she had been the cause of Sara's frustrations those first few times, having been so oblivious as to the depth of emotions Sara held for her. Having been oblivious to _any_ of the emotions Sara had felt for her.

She got better at it, as time went on.

For one, she no longer needed to be told Sara's affections were exactly that – _affection_ – and not, as she had initially presumed, a desire to be favored or protected as the Heir's ward.

She has also become better at knowing how to approach Sara, even when – or especially when – emotions were fraught.

She should probably have been less surprised to find Sara not beating up a dummy, although that had clearly been the intent, since Sara stood in front of one such training dummy, glaring at it as if it were to blame for her emotional state.

"Sara," Nyssa began, but was immediately silenced by a cutting glare from the blonde.

There was a beat that followed, a clear indication of Sara gathering her thoughts – perhaps she had doubted Nyssa would follow her at all, which was, to Nyssa, a laughable proposition – while Nyssa prepared for the argument that was sure to proceed.

She did not have to wait long.

"What, Nyssa? What could you say that's supposed to make me feel better?" Sara demanded, stepping away from the dummy to focus on Nyssa. "You were dead. You died, and I wasn't there, I didn't know – _why didn't I know you were even in that much danger_? – and from what Thea told me, if you'd had your way, I wasn't going to ever know what happened. And now you're—"

"It is not that I am ungrateful—"

"I don't need you to be grateful!" Sara snapped. "I need you to be alive; I need you to be _here_."

"Keeping me under your watch will not guarantee my safety," Nyssa attempted, even though the words sounded hollow, knowing she and Sara have had this conversation before – many times before – considering the nature of their work, their lives within the League, how it had been leaden with danger and how they were not always sent on assignment together.

It was their argument, their first real fight, when Sara's first assignment in the League had not been under Nyssa's supervision. Nyssa had wanted to talk to her father, to be the one to go with Sara, aware of the toll her first kill would undoubtedly incur upon Sara, while Taer al Asfer had insisted that she could do what she had been tasked to do, miffed at what she had perceived to be Nyssa's doubt that she could accomplish what she needed to do.

_Taer al Asfer, I only want you to be safe._

She understood the bitter laugh that escaped Sara's lips, knowing it came from the same source of why the words sounded hollow to her.

"Look me in the eye and say that again, when I tell you I nearly died. Again."

Nyssa flinched, and she knew her face expressed as much. "You—"

"And I know I should have been thinking of Ava, or Laurel, or even my mom, but all I could think of was you, but the only way I had to reach you was Laurel, because – actually I don't know why we're not even able to just call or talk to each other, but that has to change – and you were supposed to be with her, and when I found her you weren't, you were nowhere to be found, and that _you'd died,_ and being told you didn't want me to know, and that's..." Sara shook her head. "That's unacceptable, Nyssa!"

"You are free from the League, and—"

" _You_ are _not_ the League!" Sara interjected, taking a step closer to the taller woman. "I swore fealty to the League, to your father, but I stayed, and I came back, _for you_. If I had known, if I knew that when you told me to leave it wasn't just to keep me away from Merlyn, or from the League, I would never have—"

"Do not—"

"Every day I thought about you. I wondered if I'd made the right choice, and when you brought down Merlyn, and disbanded the League, I thought—" Sara stopped, and shook her head, not willing to voice out all the thoughts that had occurred to her when she'd first learned about the end of the League of Assassins. She looked at Nyssa. "Not once did anyone at home tell me you've ever asked about me."

"They have never particularly like my being part of your life," Nyssa returned. "Do not confuse their acceptance as preference."

"They knew how I felt about you, they would have—"

"The same way I was informed when you had died?" Nyssa demanded.

Sara frowned, troubled. "I was dead, I don't exactly—"

"Your friends and family did not deign me important enough to be informed. And one is left to wonder why that is." Nyssa pressed. "When your soul had been returned, when you would visit Star City for your father, or to save the city, or mourn Laurel?"

"I—" Sara started, then stopped, and tried to reason her way out of that accusation.

"Why should I burden you any further than I already have, when you have already been freed from the League, from oaths you made, when you have made your feelings clear?" Nyssa pressed.

"Because I love you!" Sara snapped. "I know I've done a really shitty job of making that clear, of telling you, or of showing you that, but I do. And you love me, too, and this game? Of you pushing me away, telling me to leave, or trying to tell me I'm better off without you? That ends, right now."

"What would you have me do?" Nyssa inquired forcefully. "You were _gone_. You'd died, and then you were away on your big time-travelling adventure, and what was I supposed to do?"

"You could have come for me."

"I was _imprisoned_ , Sara. Because your friend Mr. Queen handed the reins to the League to your murderer, and because _I_ tried to do the right thing. Nobody deigned me relevant enough to inform me your soul had been restored." The look she gave Sara was cutting in the heartbreak it showed. " _You_ did not deign me relevant enough to have me informed sooner than you had."

That was fair. But Sara had not entirely been herself when she had come back, first as the feral shell that emerged from the Lazarus Pit in Nanda Parbat, and later with her soul restored through powerful magic. She had been largely aimless, finding (or starting) fights as a way of controlling the blood lust that coursed through her veins, up until Rip Hunter had found her and she joined his team of time travelling heroes.

"It wasn't safe."

Nyssa smiled wryly, acknowledging a universal truth, especially in regard to their lives. "It is _never_ safe."

The League of Assassins had enemies, both in and out of it, and despite Sara's assertion, Nyssa's father had _been_ the League, and as his Heir, Nyssa had been in the middle of all of that. It was the Undertaking, it was Slade Wilson, it was Malcolm Merlyn and his machinations. It was Vandal Savage, it was Damien Darhk and the rest of the Legion of Doom. It was humans and metahumans and demons and mythological creatures.

It was the two of them, constantly pulling away from each other.

Sara softened, relented: well aware of how much she and Nyssa have hurt each other. She returned Nyssa's frank assessment of their situation with her own honest truth: "You shouldn't have handed over my knife to Thea."

She understands the reasons, the motives: Sara knew what rationale Nyssa might have made, to herself or to Thea; or if Sara dared to confront her about it, maybe even to Sara, but that didn't mean it didn't _hurt_ , and more than anything, Sara was done with that cycle of hurt.

" _Habibti_..."

That tone, again. The same tone that had spurred Sara out of the medbay. Nyssa's voice was placating, but Sara had a point to make, and she was not going to relent to that tone.

"I know you look at me and see the woman that left, and all you hear when I tell you I love you is that I told you I loved you, _once_ , and Malcolm Merlyn broke us before we could fix it, and maybe we'll never recover from that, but don't you want to try?" Sara asked. In her question, in her voice, Sara allowed some of her desperation, the same desperation that had led her to Nyssa this time around, to show. "I almost died, and all I could think of was how I left you in that dungeon, how I let you push me away; if you really chose to stay for Laurel and Talia and the League, or if you thought the last time I told you I love you was a goodbye, and it _wasn't_ , and it was never supposed to be, but you... You were gone, and—"

"Sara," Nyssa said softly, shaking her head. She could not argue against that anguish, as she, too, had been driven by illogical heartbreak, discovering she had not been told of her beloved's demise, that day in the Arrow's headquarters.

She also remembers her younger self, the proud, haughty, petty version of herself, and the snide remark of how difficult goodbyes were.

_Is that why I didn't get one?_

"And it's not just because you died, or were missing, or some misguided idea of keeping you where I can keep an eye on you," Sara continued. "I've missed you. _I miss you_. And because I did not break so many rules and got my team grounded or risking my place on my team to just happily let you skip out with Laurel and join her team and her threesome with another earth's version of her dead ex and a mob princess."

Nyssa quirked an eyebrow, flinching slightly at Sara's choice of phrasing and the inappropriate summary of Laurel's love life.

"I know, I'm asking for a lot. But my team still needs me, and I'm not ready to leave them yet. So I'm asking, please, just do this with me for a little while, and if you hate it and want to settle down, or reunite with Team Living Dead, whatever you want, we'll go. We'll do that."

Nyssa didn't say anything, but Sara knew her well enough to recognize Nyssa's acknowledgment of the promise Sara was making.

The fact that _Sara_ was even _making_ promises.

Sara pressed her advantage, realizing Nyssa understood the enormity of what she was saying, and seemed to have heeded her instruction and was no longer nitpicking reasons to not be with her. "Last time I asked, you said you had duties, responsibilities. That you needed to protect Laurel. That you had to see through what Talia was up to. Laurel has a whole team looking out for her. And from what Laurel and Thea have told me, you've protected what's left of the League from Talia's machinations. I know what's going on, and they don't follow her blindly. And we can stop them if she steps out of line.

"You're not the Heir anymore. And you're not a Ra's with a League to fix." Sara said softly. "And I am asking you to be with me, to please stay with me, to be _Nyssa_ , watching my back like you always have."

"You are with another," Nyssa softly reminded, in what they knew was the last line of defense from what they honestly, truly, wanted.

"I'm not."

Nyssa gave no outward sign, but Sara saw the spark of recognition in Nyssa's eyes, the recognition of what that simple statement meant.

"And, okay, I know I could have brought this up as soon as you woke up, and for the record you were kinda previously dead and Laurel was in a coma and I had to convince my team I haven't lost my mind," Sara said quickly, giving excuses but also justifying why and how she had overlooked sharing this major and important bit of information, "but do you really think I would have been gone months away from them, broken so many rules, possibly messed with the timeline, all to save and bring back my Beloved, and not break up with the girl I was seeing first?" Sara let out a small scoff of bemusement. "I'm selfish and insensitive on a good day, but, come on."

Nyssa paused.

Sara waited.

"Sara..."

She knows. She has always been Nyssa's Beloved, claimed and recognized as such within the League, and in return Sara had gifted Nyssa with a knife with their names.

She had never declared the same, the part of her that feared commitment overriding what she had felt.

But she was done avoiding it.

"I love you," Sara restated, unwilling to leave it unsaid now that she could say it freely, now that it no longer bore the weight of everything left unsaid between them. "I love you, and can we please, _please_ , be done fighting."

Nyssa had barely finished her nod before she and Sara were kissing, surging together as if another second apart was a second too long.

In the moment, Sara had absolutely no idea why they haven't been kissing this whole time, why she hasn't been at Nyssa's side and showing her just how much she loves her all these years since coming back from the dead, but she's absolutely looking forward to remedy that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the readers who have read this series from the start: _this_ is the Nyssa-joins-the-Waverider story we were all rooting for. Huzzah.


End file.
